Socks Don’t Have to Match

In our laundry room downstairs, a discarded teak book shelf holds my causal threads. Of the four shelves, I’d say the top one gets the most action. I’m a regular on E-Bay seeking size 38 Ex-Officio tan shorts. Yes, those same style I’ve been sporting in for a dozen years. “Quality never goes out of style,” my grandfather Chuck used to say, borrowing a line from Levi Straus. Of the 15 pairs I’ve owned, I’m pretty sure only one was purchased at retail, new. Yes, I wear other peoples used Bermuda shorts.

The second shelf has at least ten free shirts from my part time, nearly two decade run with Starbucks. I never seem to discard any unless Jill, my partner, is clearing the shelf while making a donation box. “I’ve never seen you wear this.” She’s right, my company shirt giveaways are nothing more than a collection of talismans from a distance coffee promotion or social message of the day. As 2021 arrived, the world’s biggest caffeine pusher announced the celebration of its 50^th Birthday. I was confident there would be a new shirt in my future. Like nearly everything else right now, the bad news came. The shipment would be delayed.  

We gingerly loaded our bundle of joy in the triple checked car seat and headed home, so I thought. After all the waiting, pent up anticipation, and non-stop baby counsel, I decided we had to spin through the front lane of Civica Starbucks. A steady stream of fellow Starbucks Partners took a moment to view our new back seat passenger through the slightly opened window. A few of you came running to the side of the white Jeep too. I was so happy to be a new dad. 

For days and weeks after, I received lots of tips, tricks, and advice from many of you veteran moms and dads. Cloth diapers vs. Pampers, unscented vs. Costco wipes, Butt Paste vs. prescription lotion, No More Tears vs. anything in the shower. I was even told my daughter might need to cry herself to sleep. I was resigned to never let that happen, no matter how many trips up and down the hall I’d have to put in. 

Nearly every conversation over the coffee bar started with “How’s that Baby?” followed by another friendly tip to bring home to Mom. 

Baby photos starting appearing on the hand off plane. I was no longer the 20 hour a week Starbucks Partner you first met. I became a sounding board for many of you striking up another baby conversation often starting with: “Oh, I remember when”…..

Over a dozen years in that lovely office tower, the cache of memorable friendships would take forever to count. On March 14^th 2020, everything went sideways. “Close all the office towers today at 4PM, indefinitely,” said the regional leadership. 

My coffee community family was over, all in one day. 

Because we all come from slightly different places, the effect this tornado of change is having isn’t predictable. I’m going out on a limb here: Today, many of us (myself included) are living in a heightened state of social awareness and critical need to guard our mental health. 

“And still I feel I said too much.

My silence is my self-defense.”

~ Billy Joel, And So It Goes (1989)

As that special girl approaches driving age, it seems many of us (my hand is up) are full of logic options, quick opinions, and copious judgment. This past two years has upended our routines, sent us deep into our collective corners, and made us weary of those we recently considered our closest friends. I’ve experienced a shift with some I held dear. If you know me at all, I’m operating with full tear ducts this season. I’ve been trying live on three equities I saw my mother spend most of her adult, professional life. 

Hope. Kindness. Love. 

I believe this all comes down to socks. On the top shelf of that aforementioned teak bookshelf sits a blue, one foot square cloth cube. Its original use was one of eight cubbies, home to my daughter’s first generation of toys. Some of her favorites like the cash register, plastic maracas, Disney DVD’s, Elmo, and Barbie’s. Each got its parking place. 

That discarded cube has a sole purpose today: a depository of my miscellaneous socks and briefs. 

FYI: These I only buy new! I will admit, there might be a few near the bottom that have worn beyond their shelf life. Perhaps, some of my ideas deserve similar merit. Fresh out of the dryer, few of them are matched but I know they’re all in that little bin. Most are a similar shape. I’ll often grab what I believe to be a match only to find out, I was pretty close. Life has felt that way since we first heard those words coronavirus. We’re all in a bin together, familiar but really mixed up. Not really able to match our collective thoughts and or values, but close. 

In the end, I’d like to think we all still want exactly the same thing: The baby to stop crying.